An Emotion Away
by The Taylor
Summary: All Lilly can remember is the voice inside her head, the one telling her to hold on and believe because things will get better. Lilly/Miley
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** An Emotion Away  
**Author:** Taylor  
**Rating:** T, may go up in later chapters.  
**Summary:** All Lilly can remember is the voice inside her head, the one telling her to hold on and believe because things will get better. Lilly/Miley (Formerly written for another show, now made Liley.)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hannah Montana, or any associated characters, etc. The plot is all mine, though, as far as I know. The title is a song by Alanis Morissette.

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**Chapter One  
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Clouded blue eyes concentrate on the ceiling above, a fruitless attempt to block the intruding voices out. They are everywhere, inside and outside and all around her. They are never-ending and uncaring and harsh. The hardest part has to be not knowing who or when they are, why they singled her out specifically. That is all she can remember of her life. That voice inside of her head telling her to hold on, to keep believing because things will get better.

"Do you remember?"

Teeth capture lips, bite down hard. "No."

"Your name is Lilly Truscott." This voice is smooth, deep, but obviously uncomfortable. "You were in an accident."

Lilly closes her eyes and squeezes them shut so tightly her face screws up. Behind her eyelids she can hear tires screeching and metal crunching, and she can see flashing blue and red lights dance behind her eyelids. While she knows now that she was in an accident she doesn't understand what she's seeing or hearing or why she can smell copper – a smell that makes her sick to her stomach – when nothing else is coming to her.

"What kind of accident?" Blank blue eyes meet concerned brown eyes. Do they know each other? She's not sure yet.

"A car accident," a dark-haired boy says gently. "You were hit by a man driving a truck… he was intoxicated."

"Is he alive?"

"No."

And she **screams** for a life lost.

_What is this?_

_It's me, all of me._

_Why are you doing this?_

_Because I can't live without you, and you need to know that._

The voices are in Lilly's head again. It has no tone, she can only hear words and completely unable to distinguish who is talking – if a boy or girl is talking, because it's only a low monotone. It's only a whisper, but it echoes throughout her whole body and she has a feeling one of them is her. If she were to hear the voice the words belonged to, she might be able to find some answers, but she feels like the chances are slim to none.

"How old am I?"

"You're eighteen. You turn nineteen next month."

"Who are you?"

Lilly feels pressure on her hand – the hand that is not broken and mangled. She looks down and sees a larger hand wrapped around her smaller one. "I'm Oliver Oken. I'm your best friend."

She's burning. Her eyes are burning, and Oliver swipes her cheeks gently. She realizes that her face has become wet, and the drops forming in her eyes won't go away anytime soon.

"What am I doing?" Lilly asks him, her voice low and weak. "What are these?"

Oliver runs a hand through his messy hair, before wiping some more tears from her cheeks. "Those are tears, Lilly. You're crying."

And then he is, too, and Lilly takes his hand and squeezes as hard as she can. The pain in her leg and her arm, spreading through her chest and her cheek do not compare to that constricting her heart rendering her unable to feel anything else. Lilly is broken and she wants to drown in these tears.

_Can you take me as I am?_

_What are you?_

_I'm broken. I'm undeserving. I'm not like you. We're total opposites. You're a pain in the ass and I'm a bitch. I'm also in love. With you, you know._

_Yeah, I know._

_So can you? Can you take me as I am?_

"Why can't I remember anything?" Lilly asks.

She's so confused, because there are some things she _can _remember. She knows how to use the restroom, and how to eat and swallow and breathe in and out. She knows how to write – quite well, in fact – but that's a surprise to her. She can sometimes get dressed, but other times she has trouble. She knows the name of certain foods, ones that she must have eaten quite frequently before the accident – she has no problem remembering fudgy buddies. Names are harder for her to remember. Only a few stick out, but Oliver tells her they're names of friends from ten or more years ago.

And then there's that whisper in her mind. It comes and goes, and she can't piece it together. The whispers don't make the slightest bit of sense. Is she remembering her life? Or is she remembering lines from a song or movie?

"Well, Miss Truscott," The doctor that has been with her for the past three days, Dr. Tony Adams, sits down across from her bed, a clipboard gripped tightly in his hand. "You hit your head."

Lilly could have laughed out loud at that statement – that simple, stupid statement that made all the sense in the world. Of course she hit her head, what a dumb thing to say. Maybe she hit it so hard that her memories fell out and mixed with the blood that had pooled around her broken body.

Dr. Adams frowns, and explains exactly what had happened to her, but Lilly was too focused on the image of her head splitting open and little people jumping out and onto the asphalt beneath her. Only when she feels Oliver's eyes boring into her does she blink and focus back onto the conversation.

"…Really don't know if you will ever recover them." Adams says slowly. "If you do, it could take a few months, minimum."

"And at most?" Lilly asks, looking at the cast on her left arm.

"It could take a year, or more." Adams answers. "But once you go home, you may find your memories coming back to you sooner rather than later."

"If ever, right?" Lilly tears her eyes away from her cast and looks down at her lap. Her hair falls around her face, and her shoulders shake. Inhaling sharply, she lets out a strangled sob.

Adams stands up and nods to Oliver. "I'm sorry, Oliver. Good luck."

And she's **overwhelmed** by the **weight of it all**.

_Home is where the heart is._

_I wish you could hear yourself._

_I mean it, Lil. I could never leave you, or this. Not my home and never for good._

_Then stay with me._

Lilly runs her fingers through her stringy blonde hair and stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescents above make her look pale, deathly pale, and enhance the circles under her eyes. She looks away to change her clothes, to finally get out of the gown she's been wearing for the past week and a half. It's quite a task with the cast on her arm and hand, and the bruising on her entire body, but she refused any help.

She's so ready to be home, wherever that is. She's anxious to be with Oliver and learn about herself and those around her.

Most of all, she wants to know who is haunting her, and why. Is there something different about this person? Were they any more significant in her life than any other person? Was it a family member? A friend? A lover?

Oliver opens the door to the bathroom as Lilly shoves the hospital gown into the basket by the toilet. She sees his reflection in the mirror and turns around quickly. Before she can even think about it, she embraces him tightly.

"Lilly?" Oliver says quietly.

"Yeah?" Lilly's face is pressed against his chest, her good arm wrapped around his torso.

"Your shirt is inside out."

And she **laughs** at how ridiculous this is.

**to be continued**

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I may or may not continue, it depends on what you guys think.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm very sorry for the long wait, I've had a lot going on in my life lately. I love all of you for your kind reviews, though, and I promise to have the next chapter up soon.

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**Chapter Two  
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Oliver is silent as he pushes Lilly toward the entrance of the hospital. Lilly feels sick to her stomach and the white walls on either side of her, the white tiles beneath her are not helping. The voice inside of her head is quiet, for now at least, and every time she closes her eyes all she sees blue. It is all-consuming and it leaves her gasping for breath as the white disappears and more colors than she can count appear alongside of her, bunched together deliberately. The arrangement is beautiful and a particular shade of blue catches her eye.

Lilly smiles and holds up a hand, and Oliver stops immediately. Lilly stretches out her well arm and points to the colors. "What are those?" she asks softly, staring at them in awe. "They're so…"

"Those are called flowers. Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes, they are. They're very beautiful," Lilly responds and reaches down to pluck a flower from the ground. She sits back up and winces at the searing pain spreading throughout her torso. "What is this one?" Lilly brings the flower to her nose and inhales, closes her eyes at the scent that fills her nostrils.

Oliver looks at it and smiles. "It's called a lily."

_I want to protect you from all the bad things in life, darlin'. That's all I've ever wanted to do._

The voice is calling out to her once more, louder than ever as Lilly stares out the passenger side window of Oliver's beat-up old station wagon. Lilly has no idea why, but the voice is soothing as she braces herself from impact at any given moment. The ride home is nothing like Lilly imagined it would be. Oliver is not a bad driver whatsoever but the memories of that night are coming back to her little by little and she remembers the sudden impact of another car against her own and the elongated blaring of her horn in the silence that fell immediately afterward. It is eerie and Lilly shakes her throbbing head to rid herself of the sound.

"Are you alright?" Oliver asks without taking his eyes from the road.

"Yes." Lilly answers. "Where are we going, Oliver?"

"We're going to your house."

"My… home?" Oliver nods. "What is my home like?"

"Your home is… kind of chaotic, but in a really good way," Oliver responds with a smile. "You live with your best friend and her family."

"My best friend?" Lilly asks and flips through her mental catalogue of people she remembers. None of the names or faces seem to fit the bill, none of them seem _right_. "Who is she? What is she like?"

"There's Miley Ray Stewart, she has been your best friend since you were eleven years old. She moved here from Tennessee with her family after her mother died, and you were the only one who would talk to her after I spread a rumor that she ate possums. You two have been inseparable since. Then there's her older brother Jackson and her father, Robby Ray," Oliver replied. "You've lived with them since you were sixteen years old. They're getting back into town today, and I told them that I'd rather bring you home to them instead of them all coming to that damn hospital. I don't know if they're home yet, though."

There is venom in his voice and Lilly wants to soothe him, to take away the pain he must be feeling, but her heart is suddenly pounding wildly in her chest and she can focus on very little else. She is anticipating the meeting of the people that she lives with. The very thought of being introduced to people she has known for most of her life thrills her, yet terrifies her. What if she is not what they expect to see?

"It's going to be alright, Lilly," Oliver says knowingly. He is slowing down and not a moment too soon, they pull up in front of a large house. A black SUV is sitting in the driveway. "Oh, hey. It looks like they're home."

The first thing Lilly notices upon arriving at what Oliver tells her is _home_ is the unfamiliarity of the place. Not a flicker of recognition flashes in her eyes as she looks at Oliver and nods politely. The second thing she notices is the largeness of the house. It makes her head spin upon first sight.

"Why hasn't my mother come to visit me? Or my father? Are they still alive?" Lilly asks suddenly. Oliver quickly runs around to her side of the car and she waits patiently for an answer as he helps lift her out of the car and hands her the crutches lying across the backseat.

Oliver stays quiet for long moments. "Yes," he answers softly. "Your father lives in Los Angeles, but I couldn't get a hold of him. Your mother moved to Atlanta, and she would be here but she… has important meetings that she can't get out of."

Lilly accepts this easily as she makes her way to the front door, Oliver hovering over her as she takes careful steps. "What if they think I'm… broken?"

Oliver doesn't have an answer. Lilly allows Oliver to guide her to the front door. She pauses. Oliver stops just ahead of her and turns, with a look in his eye that Lilly immediately hates. Though she cannot name it, she senses an emotion radiating from him and it makes her feel weak… inadequate… broken, which she knows she is.

"Stop looking at me like that, Oliver. I'm not completely useless," Lilly snaps, startles herself. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she immediately corrects herself. "Let's just go inside, okay?"

Oliver blinks and Lilly no longer feels anger toward him. The look of _whatever_ is gone from his eyes, replaced by the warmth she's come to know in the past several days. Lilly reaches out and takes his hand for a moment before nodding toward the door without a word. Oliver smiles gently and knocks on the door. An older man answers the door, a kind smile on his face.

"Why hello there, Lilly, Oliver," He says gently, holding the door open as Lilly makes her way slowly through the doorway. "My name is Robby Ray Stewart. This is my son, Jackson. Boy, come over here and say hello."

Lilly knows that they know her, but the way they're speaking makes her feel a little better. They are kind and supportive, and feel faintly like her own family. If she didn't know better, she would've thought Robby Ray was her father.

"C'mere, sit down," Robby Ray tells Lilly, leading her to the couch. Lilly sinks down into the couch and squirms, making herself comfortable. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"No, thank you," Lilly answers softly, looks around. She feels an inexplicable need to see her best friend, to see the one she has known since she was eleven. "Where is…?"

"Miley," Oliver volunteers, and Lilly nods.

"Miley! Get your butt down here now, Lilly's home!" Robby Ray calls up the stairs.

Lilly waits impatiently and moments later, heavy footsteps sound from the staircase. She wants to turn around and see the girl that probably knows her better than she knows herself – both pre-incident and definitely now – but fear suddenly grips her and keeps her from moving. Two hands sit gently on her shoulders, gently knead them. Electricity spreads throughout her, shoots down her arms to the very tips of her fingers.

"Could you leave us alone?" a raspy voice speaks out, and a moment later the men file out of the room. Miley walks around the couch and sits down next to Lilly, not yet looking at her. Yet the sight of her profile makes Lilly's head spin, makes her chest tighten and her heart swell for reasons unknown.

"Miley…? It is Miley, right?" Lilly asks softly, feeling dumb.

Miley nods and turns her head, spreads her lips and shows straight, white teeth as she smiles brightly. "Yes, you're right."

"Good. I'm not very good with names right now…" Lilly slowly meets her eyes and her heart stops in her chest. Blue meets blue and Lilly suddenly pieces it together – the blue of Miley's eyes has been haunting her, her raspy voice calling out to her in her time of need. But that, and the touch of her hands on her shoulders, is all Lilly could remember of her best friend. And it hurts more than she could've ever imagined it would. "I'm sorry I don't know you anymore," Lilly whispers, her eyes suddenly full of tears. They begin to tumble down her cheeks at an alarming rate.

Miley leans forward and carefully wraps her arms around Lilly, who buries her face in the taller girl's neck and wraps her good arm around her. Miley runs her hand through Lilly's hair and whispers soothing words into her ear, "It's okay, sweetie. I promise everything will be okay." And Lilly has no choice but to believe her.

**to be continued**

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_**Thanks for reading. Please review.**_


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